For you. For me. For anyone who cares.

Last week I was chatting with a college roommate, Jodi. Ours is one of those special relationships – the kind that spans time. It doesn’t matter if we haven’t spoken for six months or six years. It’s just always good. Yeah. Well that’s me and Jodi.

I forget the impetus for the call but the story she told was nothing short of remarkable. Here’s my recollection of it.

Jodi and her ten year old son, Jarrett, had attended services at their local temple. On the ride home, Jarrett expressed his concern with how he would remember the 613 commandments noted in the Hebrew Bible. There were rules for everything, right down to the nitty-gritty of appropriate clothing (wool and linen can not be mixed) and how meals should be prepared (kosher, of course). There were also rules about bigger issues, like not killing or stealing. Jodi explained that it was all about priorities.

The next day Jarrett came back to his mom. “I’ve been thinking about yesterday. I think there is one main lesson.”

Jodi was thrilled. Anything to keep it simple.

“Be Kind,” Jarrett said.

“Perfect,” responded my friend. “Perfect.”

The following weekend, Jodi and Jarrett stopped for breakfast one morning while running errands. As they left the shop, they ordered four cups of coffee and four bagels – to go. Food in hand, they headed to the local park and embarked on a mission of kindness. As they walked down the path, they found a man who appeared to be homeless huddled under a tree with a shopping cart full of his belongings. They handed him a cup of coffee and a bagel. “Here, we want you to have this.”

“Thank you,” mumbled the man. He pointed towards another man sleeping on a bench. “He’s been here for a while. He might want coffee too.”

Jodi and Jarrett followed his direction and approached the man on the bench. He was passed out cold. My friend tried unsuccessfully to wake him. They left coffee and bagel and walked on.

Further down the path was a group of three people, all gathered together in a circle. Jodi and Jarrett approached and offered up the last two cups of coffee and bagels. And then the arguing started. Jodi chuckled as she told me the story.

“You would never believe it,” she said. “They were arguing about who would get the food. Not in the way you would expect either. They wanted to make sure that the others had enough. ‘No- you take it.’ ‘No, no. I have enough. You eat it first.’ ‘No. It’s your turn.'” Jodi deftly negotiated between two full size cups of coffee and a smaller cup full of cream, splitting everything evenly three ways. Eventually, everyone had a hot cup of coffee and a portion of a bagel.

As my friend and I chatted she expressed her humility. Friends had commended her on her do-goodism. She corrected them. Her generosity had done more than feed a few people in the park. Her charitable act had allowed her and her son to bear witness to the humanity that exists in the most desperate of places. There was unity and community within that park. Each person, no matter what their circumstances, had been concerned with the well being of the others.

Jodi and Jarrett had undoubtedly received much more than they gave on that day.